


Devils in the Details

by jaimistoryteller



Series: Q's Collection [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q Reverse Bang, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Demons, Fluff, Food Porn, M/M, Magic, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Rimming, Supernatural Elements, character cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller
Summary: James Bond, lost in a world not his own for years, knowing only his name, accidentally summons a demon. A demon that could be the answer to his prayers.





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmeresLare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeresLare/gifts).



> 1: the dub-con comes from the fact Q is an incubus that James makes a deal with.  
> 2: The entire thing is from James’ POV
> 
> Thanks for the lovely art to use as an prompt from AmeresLare

He’s cleaning the nave when a shiver passes over his spine, his blood rushing in his ears to the pounding of his heart as he strains to hear something, anything. He’s not sure why the sudden spike in his senses.

“I wonder if you are a good catholic priest who just made a mistake by reading a book aloud while tracing the markings within that he shouldn’t have or are you something else masquerading as a priest to hide your true nature,” a melodious voice whispers across his senses. It’s not a question despite the wording.

He stills, forcing himself to take a deep breath and slowly turning towards the speaker. He finds himself staring at a hauntingly, inhumanly beautiful — his brain stalls out trying to put a name to the being perched on the back of a pew like a gargoyle. That’s not it though. He’s quite sure his visitor is a demon.

 _A demon_.

Swallowing hard, his eyes slowly rake down the demon’s lithe body. Shimmering amber skin is marbled with patches of smooth, vibrant emerald green and scaled, deep ruby red. Two small horns curl up and over wild black curls. Gemstone colored wings are partly flared up behind him, as if used to balance himself. A thin tail of dark green flicks much like a cats. He swallows again as he continues his downward glance, realizing that the demon is bare of all clothing and currently has what most would consider an impressive male form.

An extremely impressive male form.

His eyes jerk upwards, meeting pale gray ones that are filled with amusement.

“I think, perhaps, you aren’t a priest,” the demon murmurs, lightly stepping off of the back of the pew he is currently perched on.

Licking his lips, his eyes drift over the demon again, his willpower not enough to keep him from gazing on the enthralling form. Nor is it enough to stop the flush of arousal that heats up his skin.

Incubus or succubus, he thinks. His visitor is definitely one of the types of sex demon. Although, there’s always a chance that they’re something else. He’s well aware that demons can make themselves to appear as something else. According to what he knows, it is rare for them to appear as other types of demons.

At least, that’s what’s in the books, he didn’t truly believe, or maybe he lost his belief. At this very minute he’s not sure which it is. It’s hard not to believe in something that is steadily moving towards him.

He steps backwards instinctively, every fiber of his being telling him he’s with a predator. A better predator than him. An apex predator even.

Supple lips curl into a smirk as the demon strides forward. “I have spent the last week watching you, James.”

He takes another step backwards, smacking into the step of the altar dais, falling on his arse. His eyes never leave the approaching demon.

“You are either inexperienced, foolish, or arrogant,” the demon continues, never stopping his slow stride forward. “I’m leaning towards inexperienced.”

He bristles at that, but doesn’t move, too captivated by how the candle light dances and casts shadows on the demon’s gem colored skin. He wants to reach out and touch it, only the sure knowledge that would be an exceedingly bad idea keeps him still. He’s good at listening to his instincts.

Crouching so they are eye to eye, the demon queries, “What is it you wish for? What do you want to barter?” His voice gets lower, almost a breathless purr, “What do you long for? What do you desire?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

His mind goes back to last week. Why exactly did he trace the runes and read the book aloud? He knew what it was. What it could do. He just didn’t believe it. Then when nothing happened, when there was no fire and brimstone, no wind or sudden appearances, he thought it was all a hoax. For months now he has been questioning his faith. That’s the entire reason he started sneaking into the bishop’s archives.

“Tell me James, why did you summon me?” The demon’s breath is hot as it fans over his face, the scent reminding him of cinnamon for some reason.

His mouth snaps shut and he swallows again. He doesn’t normally feel this out of sorts, hell, he doesn’t normally feel anything anymore.

“Perhaps you would like your memories back? The life you held before you came here? To know everything lost? To return to where you came from?”

Each question feels like a knife cutting through him. The brothers found him years ago almost dead on the bank of the river. He had no memory of where he was from or who he was past his name.

Longing curls low in his belly, desire awakening for the first time in years. He can’t recall the last time he wanted a tumble with anyone.

“Tell me,” it’s whispered just above his lips.

Jerking back, his eyes narrow on the smirking demon who seems unbothered by his sudden motion. Almost as if the demon knew what he would do before he did.

“Who are you?” He demands even though he’s certain he isn’t going to get an answer.

Head tipping slightly to the side, dark curls bouncing as the demon considers his words. “You may call me Q.”

His breath catches as a flash of an older man with an easy smile and often exasperated voice flickers through his mind.

“James?” He hears the eldest priest call out.

He glances away for just a moment and when he looks back Q is nowhere to be seen. If not for the lingering scent of cinnamon in the air, he’d wonder if he imagined all of it.


	2. Dead of Night

He convinces himself that it was a dream. Maybe a hallucination. Definitely not real. That there was no way a demon with marbled gem colored skin and stormy eyes was real. It’s impossible. He manages to keep that up for two days. Then the demon shows up again.

He’s woken in the dead of night to the sudden scent of cinnamon and ginger filling the air, and warmth along his side.

His entire body freezes, barely even breathing as he slowly opens his eyes, already suspecting what he will see.

“Good evening, James,” Q purrs, pressing just a little bit closer, their bodies touching from ankle to mid-chest. He can feel the heat radiating from the demon through his clothing and the layers of blankets. “You never answered me.” The incubus’ tone is almost pouting.

He licks his lips, eyes falling on the demon’s.

“Why did you summon me?” It’s whispered against his lips, teasing him.

“I wanted to see if it would work.” He answers quietly, voice unexpectedly rough. The sort of rough that is not from just waking up but from desire. Does he really want the demon? That’s a question he refuses to consider.

Soft laughter fills the air around him, sending a bolt of lust right to his cock. Confirming the fact he wants the incubus whether it is the smart thing to do or not.  

“What did you want if it worked?” Q asks, nipping at his lower lip playfully.

He doesn’t answer, there’s a woman’s voice echoing through his mind like a ghost, informing him that it’s a weakness to admit uncertainty.

What should he do? That’s really the question he needs to answer. Does he try sending the demon back when he doesn’t even have control? Does he answer the question, put to words what he wants? Does he reach out and touch that invitingly warm skin, feel the different texture beneath his fingers? What in the hell should he do?

Slender fingers dance over the skin of neck dipping just below the hem of his shirt to run along his skin, goosebumps rising wherever those warm fingers touch.

“What good would it do to remember?” He questions, it’s been years, and while he’s mostly unchanged, something he doesn’t understand, he’s not sure he wants to know since no one wanted him or acknowledges that he was missing.

Q’s warm hot breath fans across his face as the demon runs his nose along the curve of his jaw, softly speaking, “Perhaps you will discover something about yourself that you lost. Maybe you learn where you really belong. All sorts of little details that were lost can come back.” The last word is whispered right into his ear, sending another bolt of lust through him.

That’s something he has wanted since waking up with no idea of how he got here or where he is from.

“What would it cost?” he asks, surprised at how rough his voice is. How is it possible that it’s even huskier than when he first woke up.

“That depends,” Q replies, tugging lightly on the lobe of his ear with sharp teeth, “on how much you want to remember.”

He groans low in his throat, lust rushing through him, causing his cock to stir in his pants. 

“Everything.” He states firmly, determined beyond words what he would want if it was possible. Being possible the key. “I’d want everything.” 

The demon grins against his skin, “An entire evening to do whatever I would like with your body.” 

That should be terrifying, instead he finds it exceedingly arousing. What would it be like to have a sex demon focused on him? That’s what Q is, at least that’s what he thinks Q is. He’s mostly certain of that.

“Deal,” he declares a bit breathlessly, head turning so he can meet stormy eyes. 

The demon’s lips curl into a smirk as he murmurs, “Then kiss me.” 

He rolls towards his companion, pressing their lips together. It’s almost habitual the way his tongue swipes across surprisingly plump lips. He can’t remember kissing anyone, but it feels as if he’s done this a thousand times. He takes his time tasting the incubus, getting a feel for the differences between the demon and the ghosts of memories he can’t quite piece together. As his tongue brushes against Q’s, pressure builds behind his temples. 

He falls back, gasping for air, as white spots dance across his vision. His chest feels suddenly tight as if a vice grip is squeezing him. 

“Breathe James, it will pass,” Q murmurs, voice muffled by the pounding in his ears. 

He flinches as long fingers run lightly through his hair, sharp nails scraping along his scalp. It’s a frustrating combination of too much and not enough. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, palms coming up to press against them as the pressure builds. 

Q gently pulls his hands away from his face without stopping the slow carding of his short hair. He can’t hear through the rushing of blood through his ears, but he’s fairly certain the demon is either singing or speaking. 

The pressure spikes. He bites his tongue, holding in a scream of pain. As it fades it feels as if a fog lifts from his memory. So much flashes through his mind. Images and sounds, scents and tastes, years of information that’s been locked away. Including the certain knowledge that this isn’t the right world. 

When he got shot off the train he hit the water, expecting to die because of the distance, instead he had fallen through a shimmering section of water that didn’t look like the rest of it just as he touched it. He woke up in pain and with no memory of who he was or how his shoulder was injured in the care of priests. Since they couldn’t find any record of him anywhere, and he couldn’t think of somewhere he needed to be, he stayed. That’s how he became a priest.

He’s a spy and assassin.

That’s the last thing that crosses his mind before peaceful oblivion claims him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I look forward to any thoughts you lovely readers have for this


	3. Remembering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* I thought I posted this last night, but apparently hit save for later, rather than post now. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I look forward to any comments left.

When he wakes up in the morning, he has a splitting headache. He remembers everything. All the things he lost during the fall through the water.

Rolling out of bed, his legs go from under him, and he loses his dinner, making a god awful mess on his floor.

Brother Marcus opens the door, glancing between him and the mess before hurrying to his side.

“Are you alright, Brother James?” the younger man asks as he helps him up and back onto the edge of his bed.

He rubs a hand across his mouth, wishing for a shot of something strong, but knowing that’s not happening as this is a dry parish. The closest thing to alcohol around is the Sacramental wine.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, trying not to cringe at the aftertaste of the vomit.

“Here,” the younger man says, offering him a cup full of the water they drink.

He swirls it around in his mouth, rinsing as best as he can before spitting it back into the cup. He’ll dump it out and rinse the cup.

“I’ll go tell Father Williamson that you are resting after being ill,”  Brother Marcus declares. “Then come back to help clean this up.”

“Thanks,” he replies absently.

There is far too much going on in his head right now for him to care. He knows that’s wrong, those within the rectory have treated him better than most of those in his previous life. That doesn’t change the fact he’s so distracted he barely notices.

How could he have been a spy and assassin? He’s never felt the urge to kill anyone. Sure he notices things around him that he’s pretty sure the other brothers never do, but he figured that was just a matter of not knowing his past. Apparently that was only part of it.

He shakes his head, regretting it almost instantly as a wave of nausea washes through him, nearly causing him to vomit again.

He remembers Q, the major, rather than the demon. How the old man was always welcoming, joked with him from time to time and treated him better than most. He can still remember when he heard the news about the major dying in a freak car accident. Q had reminded him of Kincade in many ways, though he would never admit it aloud.

He remembers M with her narrow eyes and cool demeanor. The Evil Queen of Numbers as she’s sometimes called, able to calculate the total sum of events and make judgment calls in relatively short periods of time. That’s not always a benefit to those who work for her when it is determined that they are an acceptable loss. He can still hear the way she said ‘Take the bloody shot’ echoing through his mind.

Remembering Vesper is like a knife to the lung. It hurts far more now than it did then. Probably because he is completely sober and can see the things he chose to ignore then. It doesn’t lessen her death but it puts it in perspective. There was nothing he could have done to save her, and there was no way they would have lasted long term, yet it still hurts.

He draws in a ragged breath as he rubs a hand across his face. Ronson probably died. He failed one of the few people he might have called a friend.

“Brother James?” Brother Marcus hesitantly calls out from the door.

He lifts his head, glancing at the younger man.

“You should lie back down. You’re not looking that good.” He’s sure it’s meant as a helpful suggestion but right now lying down isn’t really what he wants to be doing. “I’m going to clean this up.”

“Thanks,” he mutters as he lays down anyways. Maybe if he’s lying down, the nausea will pass sooner than later.

He’s been an orphan for years. Yet it still hurts when he realizes the reason no one claimed him is the fact his family is gone. Except, he frowns, remembering the names of the Bonds that the Father wrote to. The family patriarch had the same name as his father but his wife didn’t match his mother.

Holy fuck. The reason no one knew who he was is simply because he doesn’t belong to this world. Something must have happened as he fell from the train. The portal in the water. He should have died when he hit the water, but he didn’t. If someone else had told him this, he’d think them insane. But after dealing with an incubus - a demon - it’s not a huge stretch to consider other forms of magic and the supernatural.

He’s so lost in his thought, lying there with his eyes shut, he probably looks like he’s sleeping. He doesn’t notice when Brother Marcus creeps silently from the room.

He stays where he is, slowly going through all of the unlocked memories, until Father Williamson comes to check on him just before lunch time.

“Brother Marcus is quite worried about you,” the older man states, stopping just inside the door the younger brother hadn’t closed.

“It’s probably just the flu,” he remarks as he slowly sits up, making sure not to do anything too sudden in case it sets off another round of vomiting.

“For today, rest up, I will have Brother Lawrence bring you soup for lunch and dinner. If you are not feeling better by morning you should go to the clinic,” Father Williamson informs him.

“Yes Father,” he agrees. It’s a bonus and will give him a chance to absorb all the information revealed to him.

Nothing else is said as the older man leaves after nodding at him one more time.

He lays back down, closing his eyes and letting the memories wash through him. He can decide what to do after he’s worked through what he knows.

Hopefully he’ll be able to hold down his lunch. He seriously doesn’t want to clean up vomit and doubts that anyone else would want to either. 


	4. Dinner

He’s surprised when Father Williamson informs him that a local recluse has requested his presence for the evening into tomorrow morning. He’s not sure what to make of it, but since he hasn’t left the order yet, he accepts the task without argument. Really, it’s definitely not the worst thing to happen to him.

Shortly before dinner he gets cleaned up and leaves, heading towards the small house the recluse lives in.

When he gets there, a man in his twenties with burn damage down the side of his face lets him in before vanishing from sight.

“James,” the melodious voice of the demon greets him as he appears in the doorway, “I’m so pleased to see you made it.”

He turns towards Q, studying the way he’s standing there with nothing on, watching him with the hints of a genuine smile and surprisingly warm eyes.

“Q,” he replies softly, discretely glancing around for the other man.

“Come, dinner is nearly done.” The demon states, motioning to the door he’s between.

He nods as he follows Q into the kitchen and dining area.

“Don’t mind my pet, he’s not from this world but as I killed this world’s version, he’s handy to have around,” the demon remarks, amusement filling his tone.

“Why am I here?” he queries as he glances around the room and takes everything in.

“Our deal,” Q replies, meeting his eyes for a moment before turning his attention to the oven. “I’ve timed it so the evening begins as the sun sets and ends with dawn.”

He nods slowly, not surprised by that. He’s pretty sure that the demon is definitely a plotter.

Q pulls a covered cake pan out of the oven, shutting the door with his tail, as he turns and heads towards the other door.

He considers not following, then decides against that almost in the same breath. It’s a bedroom, he realizes as he steps through the door, glancing around and taking in the furnishings. There’s a huge bed, it dominates the room. On either side of the bed are tables roughly half the length of the bed. There is food and drinks covering most of the available space.

His eyes flicker between the demon setting the pan down and the bed as he decides what to do.

“Go ahead and get comfortable,” Q suggests without looking at him.

Does he want to disrobe or stay dressed? He muses as he considers what the evening is going to entail. Incubus’ feed on sexual energy, often killing their bed partners, though not always. Of all the ways he could have died in his life, this has to be the best flirt with death.

He takes off his boots and outer robes, hanging them on a chair in the corner before settling in the center of the bed and watching the way the gem colored demon moves around the room. His colorful skin gleams in the candle light.

He’s opens his mouth to say something when the demon turns towards him, stormy eyes raking over him appreciatively. A moment later the demon is lounging on the bed beside him.

“As I wasn’t certain what sort of foods you’d prefer, I have a variety of offerings,” Q murmurs, a smile curling the corners of his lips.

“I eat pretty much anything that doesn’t kill me,” he replies with a smirk.

He almost feels like himself from before Vesper. It’s rather freeing.

“Perfect,” the demon purrs, sitting up and reaching for a strawberry.

“Do you eat?” he queries curiously.

Shrugging, Q answers, “I can, it does nothing for me as I derive what I need from sex.”

That explains why the deal was an evening Q could do anything he wants to his body, he thinks. It also explains why legends and books say they kill through sex.

The demon brings the strawberry to his lips, running the point of it along his lower lip before holding it still so he can take a bite of it.

He takes his time chewing, watching the way Q watches him, heat building in those stormy eyes.

Taking the remaining section of strawberry, the demon runs it along his throat and collarbone, coating his skin with the juice before leaning in to lap at his skin, causing him to groan softly.

Grinning, Q sits back up, using one sharp nail to spear a piece of meat and offer it to him.

It’s his turn to tease as he leans forward, lips slowly closing around the meat, steak he realizes, tongue lightly lapping at the fingertip the nail’s attached to.

The incubus isn’t the only tease, he thinks with an internal smirk. He’s James Bond, he knows how to be a tease.

Scanning over the wide variety of options, all of them high in protein or sugar he realizes, he selects a piece of watermelon. Rather than offering it to the demon to eat, he traces along junction of scales and smooth skin before dipping his head down to lap the juices up with his tongue, delighting at the different textures.

When he straightens back up, a playful smirk curl Q’s lips as he grabs another piece of meat, this time chicken, to offer him. Rather than spear it with a sharp nail, he lifts it almost delicately between two fingers, before rolling his hand over to have it rest in his palm.

Again he dips his head down a bit, he’s careful to keep eye contact with the incubus as he accepts the piece of chicken, nipping lightly at the smooth golden palm beneath.

Lust burns hot in those eyes, but so far there hasn’t been a physical reaction from the demon’s body. At least not one he’s seen. Of course, Q is a demon, it’s altogether possible the reactions aren’t the same as what he’d see with a human despite the similarities in their bodies.

As his host selects the next thing to offer him, he makes the executive decision to take his shirt off. Maybe it’s insane to hurry it along, be he liked the way the incubus’ tongue felt as it lapped the juices off his neck and collarbone. He tosses the shirt towards the chair, but doesn’t actually care if it hits it.

Stormy eyes lighten, the dark rings in the center fading to a deep gray. It takes him a moment to realize it’s the equivalence of his eyes getting darker with lust.

He agreed to let Q do whatever he wants to his body, but is he allowed to touch the demon as he wants? So far there hasn’t been a problem with it, but then he’s mostly touched the incubus on his own terms, mimicking.

He’s not sure what his host offers this time, it tastes like a fruit tart, but not any he’s had around the city. Peaches and apricots mixed with honey and almonds.

Humming in pleasure, he finishes the tart before snagging a piece of chocolate off a plate and continuing his exploration of his lover’s body as he traces along the lithe muscles, around the dip near where his belly button would be and further until he is out of chocolate. He takes his time licking and nibbling along the smooth skin and soft scales.

The chocolate has a cinnamony tang that he’s pretty sure is all Q.

As he straightens up, he watches the incubus licks his lips as he absently grabs another piece of fruit, shoving him lightly backwards so he is sprawled on his back.  

He chuckles, a low rich sound that he can’t remember when he last did. Perhaps reading that book was the very thing that he needed.

He moans low in his throat as Q takes his time placing various pieces of fruit and meat along his skin, before leisurely eating each, scraping sharp teeth over his skin and lapping at the marks with his tongue.

His slacks are beginning to feel a bit tight, he think as he reaches down to adjust them.

Smirking, the incubus lays back, snapping his fingers and arranging an array of fruits over his body, the juices from the fruit making the most delightful trails for him to follow.

It’s his turn to leisurely follow the path of the food. He’d like to take his time, maybe touch the wings that are tucked up beside the demon or the tail that keeps flicking much like a cat’s tail. He’s got a feeling that’s not an option at this point.

By the time he’s finished the last piece of fruit on the demon’s body, he’s surprised to find he’s full. He makes sure to lick up every drop of juice on that warm skin.

“I’m full,” he murmurs as he sits back up, watching the way the incubus does the same.

Snapping his fingers again, the demon turns his attention towards him.

“Excellent,” Q hums bright eyes raking over him again. “The food will remain fresh the entire evening for when you decide you want more.”

He nods in understanding, not surprised by the idea that he’ll want more food before evening is done.

“The bathroom is through there,” the demon remarks, waving a lazy hand towards a second door.

Possibly a good idea, he thinks with a snort, but why did the incubus tell him that now? No matter.


	5. From Dusk Until Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the chapter that gives this tale it's rating

The next few minutes pass in a flash, between him using the bathroom and deciding to take his slacks and pants off. When he presents himself to the demon just a short while later, he’s bare from head to toe and already showing the fact he’s physically responding to all the teasing. The air is warm enough that he doesn’t soften in the least.

Q’s eyes flash fire hot. One moment the demon is stretched out and lazing on the bed, the next he’s before him, slender fingers curling around his hips and pulling him closer.

The incubus hums in pleasure as he slots their lips together.

“Look at you,” the demon murmurs as he nips at his lower lip. “Beautiful.”

That’s hard to believe. He’s never been beautiful, he’s too blunt. He can pull off ruggedly attractive in certain settings and when dressed correctly, but this isn’t that. He’s not sure that the incubus sees him clearly.

Brushing their noses lightly together, Q states, “You are. Maybe not to human standards, but I’m not human.”

He chuckles, eyes closing as he enjoys the warmth of the demon fitted against him. It’s nice. Surprisingly so. Almost like he should be there. What a novel idea.

Still nosing at his jaw, the incubus murmurs, “May I take you to bed James?”

“Yes,” he groans, burying his face in the demon’s throat, relaxing into a hold.

He’s quite sure that anyone who knew him as James Bond, spy and assassin, saw him right now, they’d be in shock. He’s rather good at acting like he’s a dominant personality when he really isn’t. He likes being able to not be the one in charge of situations. Sure, as a spy he often reacts on instinct rather than orders, but like this, as just James, it’s nice.

Q takes a step back, and he steps with the demon, realizing as the smaller man turns what’s happening and rolling with it. Normally he is the one doing the taking care of. Rarely does he get the care. There is a part of his mind that insists that’s because he’s not worth being cared for but he’s rather determined to ignore that.

Sprawling on his back, he watches the hungry way the incubus’ eyes trace over his entire body, as if taking in a particular good treat he is trying to determine where to start.

Dark eyes continue to lighten as they skim over him before the demon decides to settle by his feet.

Now that’s an odd choice, he thinks as he shoves himself into a partly sitting up position to watch.

For a moment Q’s eyes seem to shimmer and a bottle appears on the bed beside them. Smiling, the demon picks the bottle up, flipping the lid with one sharp nail and pouring some of the oil on his other palm before closing it and dropping it back on the bed.

“I think you don’t know how to accept being the one cared for,” the incubus remarks as he lifts a leg and settles it on his lap. His nails seem to shrink and he finds himself groaning softly as the demon works the oil into his foot, taking his time to get every single knot.

He lets himself fall back, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of a foot massage. Which slowly ends up going up his calf to his knee before the demon switches to the other side giving an equal amount of attention to it.

Q shifts to kneeling between his legs, continuing the massage on his thighs and upper legs, taking his time with the muscles until he feels like a legless mess of goop.

No wonder people get full body massages, he thinks as he enjoys the attention. It’s definitely not something he would have done for himself. He doesn’t trust people enough to do so. Hell, he’s well aware that the only reason he’s not fighting it right now, besides the fact he’s enjoying the attention, is the deal he made with the demon. He doesn’t want to know what happens if he fights that agreement. Sure, Q asked, confirming that he was still open to the contact, but he’s got a feeling that was more for politeness than because he was willing to change it if it was a no.

The incubus ignores his cock, but takes his time rolling his bullocks between his hands, watching him with stormy eyes that catch his every reaction.

He spreads his legs a bit more, back arching in encouragement for more attention.

Grinning, Q shifts how he’s balanced, his long tail slipping under his back and curling partly around him.

He relaxes into it, startled at how easy it is to adapt to the idea of a tail holding him up.

“So very lovely,” the incubus murmurs as he runs a finger along the prominent vein in his cock, causing his hips to buck into the teasing contact.

He moans low in his throat, wanting more now.

Drawing a deep breath in, the demon smiles almost dreamily, swaying a bit and remarking, “Such a perfect buffet of sensations.”

He wiggles a bit, not wanting to plea but definitely wanting to get more of that attention. It’s not like he will have a lot of chances to be the pampered one in his future. Definitely not as a priest, which he is currently failing at spectacularly if the fact he is sprawled in demon’s bed wanting to get off is anything to go by. Probably not as a spy if he ever ends up back in his original world.

Eyes slitting open, Q chuckles, then dips his head down to run his tongue along that same vein, causing him to buck again because of all the sensations.

“You taste quite nice,” the demon murmurs before licking in the opposite direction.

He moans when the incubus pulls his foreskin back, rubbing the oil gently into it while his lips seal lightly around his head, sucking on it like an obscene lollipop that the demon just can’t get enough of. The tip of Q’s tongue flicks lightly across it, sending bolts of lust down his spine.

The hand not currently rubbing his foreskin continues to roll and play with his balls.

Q’s tail wraps a bit firmer around his waist, and he realizes he can’t move it easily. A moment later he understands why as the incubus dips his head down, nearly swallowing him to the root. If the tail wasn’t holding him steady, he’s quite sure he would have bucked hard into that because of the sensation alone.

“Q!” he gasps fingers curling into the bedding.

 _Yes? Any requests?_ The demon replies as he slowly lifts his head up, tongue dragging along one side and the hint of teeth on the other.

“No,” he manages to stutter out.

The incubus is already figuring things out faster than any human he’s had blow him in the past. The hand that had been playing with his foreskin, slips down to join the other in rolling and playing with his balls, though it doesn’t stay there. Instead it slides further down, teasing his rim with barely there touches that nearly overwhelm his senses.

 _Are you sure?_ Q queries as he starts his slow slide back down.

“Yes,” he gasps, wanting to rock his body and being unable to.

He can practically feel the grin around him.

He doesn’t last long, coming with a shout down the demons throat when the incubus swallows around him. The pressure of his throat constricting sends him right over the edge.

Almost immediately afterwards he finds himself relaxing into the bedding, almost drowsing.

Q slowly lets go of his partly softening cock before reaching for the oil once more. Humming in satisfaction, the incubus returns to massaging his body with oil slicked hands.

He doesn’t know how much time passes until the demon carefully rolls him onto his stomach using a combination of his hands and tail.

For a moment he starts to tense, not really liking having someone at his back before he relaxes once more. So far the evening has been exceedingly pleasurable. He’d wager that it will continue to be as long as he doesn’t react wrong.

He should definitely find a masseur so he can do this more often.

By the time Q is done, he’s nearly purring in satisfaction and almost asleep because he’s so relaxed.

He tenses a bit when the incubus pulls his arse cheeks open and licks him from the top of his rim all the way down to behind his balls. That tenseness doesn’t last long as he is soon enjoying the attention. This isn’t the first time he’s bottomed, it’s just been a while.

The incubus takes his time, licking and sucking on him until he’s unable to hold still.

 _You taste amazing,_ Q informs him, still licking at him like a favored treat.  

His wiggles a bit, wanting – needing – more.

Chuckling softly against him, the demon gives one last thorough lick that causes him to moan before the incubus goes to fingering him slowly open.

The first time Q brushes against his prostate he moans in pleasure, burying his head in his arms and fighting the urge to squirm.

Nipping at his arse, the incubus murmurs, “Feel free to make all the noises you’d like. I enjoy them. The moving is fine too, if I wanted you to hold still, I’d use my tail to keep you that way.”

He’s certain that he blushes as he pushes back, wanting more sooner than later.

By the time Q deems him ready, he’s a panting, writhing mess. He’s about ready to start pleading because he wants so much more than just slender fingers teasing him.

Nibbling his way up his back, the incubus slots them together, pressing in him softly and ever so slowly. Strong hands hold his hips steady when he aches to thrust backwards and impale himself on the demon’s cock.

Humming softly, Q latches on to the junction where his throat meets his shoulder, sucking on it.

He’s going to have a hard time keeping that mark covered, he thinks as the demon bottoms out, pressed tight against him. He almost wishes he could see the incubus’ face.

“You do realize I'm a telepath?” His lover queries, withdrawing slowly.

He feels a bit slow, he knows that but didn’t think of that detail.

Withdrawing from him, the incubus lifts himself using his wings, hands encouraging him to roll over. Once he’s resituated the demon settles between his legs.

Q frames his face with long slender fingers tipping it slightly and slotting their lips together.

He moans when the incubus nudges his legs open. He makes the executive choice to hook his legs around narrow hips, bumping up against the bottom of the demon’s tail and not exactly sure if that is problematic or not. It doesn’t seem to be causing any discomfort. So that has to count for something.

He groans in the incubus’ mouth when Q slips back in, taking his time teasing him.  Now that they are face to face, his cock is trapped between their bodies and the friction is adding to his arousal.

The closer he gets to pleasure, the sleepier he gets.

He’s startled when the demon stops, shifting his body weight to sit on his knees and tail looped around him keeping him still impaled on his cock.

“Open your mouth James,” Q coaxes him, and he realizes he was drifting.

Opening his mouth as directed, and the incubus rubs a piece of watermelon across his lips before setting it against his tongue. Slender fingers dragging against the skin of his lips as he withdraws them.

He chews on habit more than anything, but find that he’s far more alert for it.

Oh.

Rolling his hips, the demon moves within him without truly withdrawing and teasing that bundle of nerves that set fire to his blood.

He pushes himself up, so his weight is resting on his elbows as he watches his incubus move.

Smiling at him almost affectionately, the demon reaches out to snag another piece of fruit, teasing him with it before feeding it to him as well.

This feels peculiar, being fed small bites of fruit while still being fucked. It’s not bad, just different. He’s not actually sure what he thinks of it. It continues for several more minutes, until he is fully alert once more, at which point Q startles him by falling backwards and thrusting up into him rather than slowly grinding.

It changes the angle and in an embarrassingly short period of time he’s coming all over the gem toned chest, splattering it white.

He sways in place, only held up by the strong tail wrapped around him.

His eyes narrow as he realizes that Q hasn’t come, if the way he’s still moving is anything to go by, he’s a long way from coming.

“The night still young James,” the incubus purrs as he sits up once more, putting them nose to nose.

He swallows, moaning because it feels so damned good, but is almost too much.

Nuzzling his jaw, Q murmurs, “I’ll take care of you.”

That promise strikes a chord within him, making him ache with more than just physical desire that he pushes away. He’s not going to think about the implications of that promise or his reaction. Instead he’s going to eat more food because he’s definitely going to need the energy if this is just an example of what the evening is going to be like. 


	6. Another Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art that spawned this chapter, and in truth this universe, is by AmeresLare

 

In the weeks since his evening with the incubus, he has often found himself thinking about it any time he has a free moment. He probably shouldn’t think about how it felt to be the one being cared for, what it was like to have the demon fucking him until he was nearly raw, how much he wants to touch and explore that marbled gemstone skin. Knowing it’s not wise to dwell on it doesn’t actually stop him from doing so.

He’s moderately certain that the Father has some questions for him. So far he has managed to avoid them, but he’s really not sure how much longer he can. There is one question he wants to ask Q, but first he needs to see the demon and he’s not been able to come up with a good excuse for why he would.

He’s cleaning the nave once more, slowly smoking a cigarette as he cleans when he hears the door open and shut, but doesn’t actually hear any footsteps.

He straightens, turning towards the doors, exceptionally pleased to see the very person he was just thinking about walking towards him.

“Good evening,” he greets the incubus with a smile.

“James,” Q replies with a grin, “I meant to stop by sooner but things happen.”

So the demon missed him, he thinks, pleased by that concept as he didn’t really expect it.

 _Of course I missed you, why wouldn’t I?_  The incubus sounds a bit baffled by that, as if it makes perfect sense that he would be missed.

Truthfully, the idea that anyone could miss him is rather foreign to him. After all, his line of work tends to mean he’s rarely missed by anyone. Actively hunted, yes, missed and longed for, no.

“Have you considered any other things you would wish for?” Q queries as he drifts close, his human clothing doing nothing to hide the inhuman attractiveness.

He turns towards the altar, lifting the bible, tucking it under his arm and wiping the altar off as he considers that question. He’s really not sure. Now that he remembers who he is, more importantly what he is, this simple life of being a priest is beginning to feel confining in a way he’s not accustomed to.

What would he wish for? To be returned to a world where he is nothing but a tool? Perhaps, it’s the world he knows. The life he chose for himself with open eyes. He can’t deny the pain of most of his life, but it is _his_ life. Perhaps he could go to a new world? A new beginning, a new start, one that is his choice in a way this wasn’t.

He takes another drag of his cig while he thinks about it.

The incubus settles on a pew, waiting for him patiently.

Brother Marcus emerges from one of the side doors, entering the nave with a light step and happy smile.

“Brother James,” the younger man greets him, not seeming to notice the demon lounging on the pew and playing with flames. “Father Williamson wishes you to do the rounds tonight for the village elders.”

He nods, agreeing, “Yes, of course.”

“Wonderful!” the young priest exclaims, nodding at him and leaving the way he came in.

“He couldn’t see you?” he asks, taking another drag.

Q nods, still playing with the fire at his fingertips, “Most humans can’t, not unless I will them to or they summon me.”

He nods, thinking about it, and it makes complete sense.

When the incubus stands, stretching so his cardigan lifts, flashing a sliver of gemstone stomach.

“Join me?” he requests, not sure why except he wants to spend more time with the demon.

Smiling affectionately at him, Q replies, “I can.”

He finishes his cleaning of the nave in companionable silence with the incubus. Once he is done with it, he heads into the rectory, planning on collecting the journal used for note keeping on the elders that way the next priest to check on them knows what was going on the previous time.

Q stays with him, apparently invisible to those around him.

The Father gives him his instructions before shooing him along to get a move on it. Besides the elders, he is also supposed to stop and check in on those disabled or shut-in, and seeing if any of them need anything he can easily provide. He doesn’t remember the church doing the same on his world, but if he’s being honest he didn’t really pay any attention to the church either.

Just a few minutes later he’s leaving the building, the incubus still walking at his side.

“I don’t remember seeing you smoke during that first week of studying you,” Q comments, arching a dark brow at him.

He shrugs, “I don’t smoke often.”

The demon hums but doesn’t comment.

Most of the round is quiet. He speaks with the various people, doing small things around their homes as time allows and the incubus watches him with thoughtful stormy eyes.

By the time he’s done, he knows what he’d like to request, he just doesn’t know how possible it would be. Instead of heading back to the rectory or even to the incubus’ home within this community, he heads to river bank where he was found years before.

Settling on the bank, he asks, “Could I go home?”

Q sits down beside him, not quite touching but close enough the heat of his body radiates outwards, warming him. “Yes. Though it’d be a little tricky. I can move myself and bonded without any issues cause he’s considered part of me. Moving those I am not bonded to is a little more complicated.”

He nods, not fully understanding the mechanics of it but getting the theory at least.

“It’d have to be a full moon.” The incubus remarks after a few minutes of them sitting there in companionable silence. “A full moon that aligns with one of the other celestial events would work even better.”

He nods slowly.

As the moon rises high in the sky, he queries, “Does it always have to have purpose?”

Grinning at him, the demon rises, offering a hand, “I am an incubus, sex for the fun of it is part of the package.”

He accepts the hand, chuckling.

In the back of his mind he can’t help mulling over the comment about bonding. Mostly he wants to know if his demon can have multiple bonded. Not that he’s asking today, he needs to think through the implications before opening his mouth.

Besides, he’s looking forward to the sex. That’s definitely a downside to being a priest, a hell of a lot less sex in his life. It might not always be meaningful, but it’s one way he knows how to connect, sometimes the only way.

 


	7. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note:** there is a brief mention of suicidal ideation

“Q,” he whispers against smooth amber skin as they relax together. If he wasn’t eating far more often than he normally would, he’d probably be unconscious.

“Yes?” It’s a purr, a soft rumble beneath his ear that makes him smile.

“Will you keep me?” He murmurs, thinking it’s probably not possible.

“I could,” the incubus replies, tail coming up nudge his chin, to encourage him to tip his head and meet Q’s eyes. “You have to understand if I do, your life is mine. As long as I live, you will live. If you are injured or even killed it will not last long but the pain from healing can be immense. You will see everyone you know die. Even the world as you know it will change and you will be ever the same physically.”

He closes his eyes as he processes that information. That is a steep price, but he doesn’t actually have anyone else. Sure he has a property but he doesn’t have a home. The one thing he’s spent years longing for.

“Yes,” he whispers. He doesn’t need to think about it. “Yes.” He repeats himself louder, firmer, without hesitation, eyes opening to meet the incubus’.

Q shoves him backwards, moving with him and fanning his gemstone colored wings out so he’s completely covered by the demon from head to toe. “Then I will bond you to me the night of the full moon.”

He grins, reaching up to sink his fingers into soft hair and encourages his demon to lean in and kiss him.

Chuckling softly, the incubus does just that. Pressing their lips together, tongue running along the seam of his lips until he opens up beneath the demon’s. He moans as their tongues brush together, warmth and desire rushing through his body. He should be exhausted but that’s definitely an advantage to having an incubus for a lover, getting hard isn’t an issue.

He lifts his hips, grinding against Q’s, their erections brushing together as the need builds.

After months of being lovers, the incubus knows exactly how to touch him in order to get the maximum amount of reaction out of him in the least amount of time. Within minutes he’s to the verge of pleasure. There’s a part of him that wants to prolong it, but his body probably wouldn’t be able to take it. Not right now with as rung out as he is. He doesn’t fight the pleasure, gasping as Q’s lips close around his tip, tongue lapping at his slit and sending him right over the edge.

He must have blacked out, he thinks as he slowly wakes up, comfortable and warm in Q’s bed. The demon still beside him, one hand lightly carding through his hair while the other holds a book and his tail changes the pages.

“It’s almost dawn, you should return to the rectory,” the incubus suggest, setting the book aside.

While he knows it’s the logical thing to do, he finds he doesn’t want to return to being a priest.

As he dresses, he has a bit of an epiphany, “This full moon you said you’d send me back to my world,” he comments, turning to stare at the incubus, waiting for a response.

“So I did and so I shall,” Q replies with an easy smile.

He wants to ask if it will affect the bonding but doesn’t, he’ll do something he’s not good at and trust that the demon knows what he is doing.

The three days between when he last saw Q and the full moon seem to drag on. He cleans up all of his things, organizing them and writing out a note for the Father. Just before dinner he slips away, heading to the demon’s home, ready to leave this life behind and return to his old life, hopefully with Q.

Dinner is a quiet affair, companionable, he can practically feel the excitement vibrating through the air. After dinner he takes a quick shower, exiting the washroom completely bare and halfway to aroused at just the thought. He finds Q lounging on the bed, candles floating in the air in a circle around the bed.

One long fingered hand is held out to him in invitation.

Walking around to the side of the bed, he accepts the hand, being drawn down to stretch out beside the incubus.

“In order to bond, you have to completely give yourself over to me. Completely over.” Q tells him, rubbing his thumb across his knuckles.

He doesn’t have to think about it before agreeing, “Yes.”

Q shifts closer, rolling so he is partly covering him, wings fanning out around them yet staying within the ring of candles. Letting go of his hand, the incubus’ fingers skim up his arm to rest on his shoulder as the demon moves again, this time so he’s resting on his knees. Q’s other hand rests lightly on the other shoulder.

He lifts his hand to touch his lover but immediately drops it as one dark brow arches at him. Right, turning himself over. He didn’t realize how difficult that’d be. Not even a minute into this and he’s already failing.

He doesn’t think about it for too long because a moment later Q’s fingers are running over his chest, stroking and caressing, drawing him out of his mind.

A low groan bubbles up as sharp nails lightly scratch over his skin, etching barely there runes into his flesh. There is a part of him, instinct, that says he shouldn’t let this happen, and another part that feels he should do whatever he must to be kept by Q.

The demon grins at him, eyes soft gray almost blue, crinkling in mirth.

Dipping his head down, Q’s tongue traces his lips before nipping at the bottom one, encouraging him to open up. He’s moderately certain he’s got a pavlovian reaction to being kissed by the demon. He’s not sure if that’s good or not, but he’s definitely going to enjoy it.

He groans as Q sucks on his tongue. Kissing him until he’s gasping for breath. Slowly the incubus trails kisses across his face. Nosing lightly at his temples. Tongue running down from temple to the top of his ear. Nibbling from along the rim of it to his neck where he spends several minutes sucking and worrying a mark into the skin there.

It’s a good thing he isn’t going back to the rectory, he thinks as he gasps, head tipping back to give the incubus more room.

Q smirks against his throat, sharp teeth applying just the barest hints of pressure, teasing another gasp from him as they are scraped

His fingers curl into the bedding as the demon works his way down. Each touch sending sparks along his nerves.

“Q,” he groans as the incubus nips at his shoulder, taking his time tracing the scar left from getting shot with tongue and teeth. He finds himself uncomfortable with the attention to it.

“It’s alright, James,” the demon murmurs against it, following the curve of his torso downwards. “All of these will be gone in a relatively short time.”

He gasps as Q traces an old knife scar he had forgotten about.

His mind short circuits when the incubus nips at another scar, pinching the mostly sensationless patch of skin.

He gets lost in the way the demon takes his time touching him everywhere. Mapping out every inch of skin. Exploring each scar and blemish. Tasting every valley and groove. It’s intoxicating have all that attention focus on him.

A litany of noises escape him with every touch. He gasps with the application of teeth. Moans with every kiss and lick. Groans when Q trails his nose along the trail of kisses and licks, hot breath fanning over his moist skin and making him tremble. He growls, back arching when the incubus ignores his cock, taking his time to tease all around it without touching him where he wants to be touched the most.

Soft laughter fills his ears as Q’s hot breath fans over his balls.

Glancing down, he moans as he meets nearly white eyes that seem to be glowing.

“Q,” he gasps as the incubus’ lips slowly close around him.

He’s pretty sure he blacks out from the pleasure of it all. It feels like he came, but he’s still hard as a rock and Q’s still sucking on him like an obscene lollipop.

He’d rock his hips if the demon’s tail wasn’t pressed across them, keeping him still.

“You’re doing so very good for me,” the incubus whispers as he lets go of his cock with a pop.

He feels like he’s going to come again, he thinks as his back arches in need, trying to lift against his hips that surprisingly strong tail.

“Soon, love, soon,” Q murmurs as he licks his way downwards, taking a moment to roll his balls and suck on them.

He growls in need. He’s not good at waiting, not when he wants to come so damned bad.

His incubus hums appreciatively against his inner thigh, nosing at it before continuing on his downwards trek.

“You taste divine,” Q sounds almost drunk, which he didn’t think the demon could be.

He’s startled when the demon suddenly uses his wings to lift his lithe body, while using his hands to roll him over onto his stomach. A breath later, the incubus re-situates himself between his legs, tail slipping beneath him in order to lift him partly up. Q’s slender fingers pull his cheeks apart as the demon runs his tongue along his rim.

He loses track of time again as the incubus takes his time licking and stroking, long fingers teasing him.

He’s not sure if he wants to bury his head in the pillow and push his arse in the air in hopes of getting more attention than the slow measured tease keeping him on the edge or if he wants to look over his shoulder and try watching.

“Q!” He growls when the demon’s tongue pushes past the muscles and continues its slow tease.

His incubus nips at the curve of his arse, “Soon love,” is a low hiss that sends a shiver down his spine.

Again his instincts have contradicting feelings. Part of him wants to run, get as far away from the threat as possible. Another part of him wants to be closer to the danger. This is Q, the incubus he wants to spend however long he lives with, there’s no fucking way he’s running!

“Q,” he groans, startled by the fact it comes out as a needy whine.

“Yes pet, soon,” the demon hums against him, making his cock twitch.

He nearly growls again when Q stops teasing him and instead starts working his way up his body. Paying close attention to every mark on his sides and back until he can feel the demon’s cock sliding between the cheeks of his arse.

“You’re doing so good James,” the incubus murmurs just below his ear, “My good pet.”

He not sure how he manages to drop his head a bit more, exposing the curve of his neck as much as he can comfortably.

“That’s it, give in, let me take care of you,” Q continues to murmur against the column of his throat, hands caressing back down his sides until they reach his ass and spread him open. “I’ve got you.”

His body starts to tremble, almost as much as the first time the demon took him as the tip of the incubus’ cock presses against him, barely any pressure but enough that he wants to rock back onto that thick piece of flesh teasing him.

“Please,” he practically whimpers, “Q.”

“Yes,” it’s a soft hiss that sends shivers down his spine.

The demon’s hands shift, one arm taking the place of his tail, the other wrapping around his cock, applying just enough pressure to keep him on the edge but not enough to go over. Not yet. Q’s tail nudges his jaw until he turns his head so he can look over his shoulder.

More than that, so Q can slot their lips together even as he presses in, filling him in one steady thrust that leaves him breathless.

“Tell me James,” his incubus murmurs against his lips. “State who you belong to.”

“You,” he gasps, wanting to rock his body but unable to with the way his demon is wrapped around him. “I’m yours.”

“Yes,” Q hisses again, catching his lips for a fiery kiss that leaves him breathless and his vision speckled white.

His skin feels unnaturally hot along the runes etched into his skin by the incubus’ sharp nails.

He moans, eyes shutting as his pleasure peaks and he comes, his entire body going lax in his lover’s arms.

When he comes to, he’s laying on an unfamiliar beach, back in the suit he was wearing the day he got shot off the bridge.

His entire body aches, not the pain of being shot but like he’s been fucked out.

 _Q_.

Where’s his incubus at? He groans as he sits up and looks around. Spotting that hateful bridge that he had fallen from years ago. At least it was years ago in the other world. What about here? He opens his shirt, checking the entry from the bullet and finding it faded and healed, with only the very center being an obvious scar.

It wasn’t a dream. He really did spend time as a priest. His lover was a demon.

“Where are you?” he whispers, wanting his love back.

He ends up spending six months in a nearby village. When he isn’t drinking at the pub or sleeping with whichever human woman he ends up with, he searches for his demon. He tries his damnedest to remember the spell he once used to summon Q but nothing works. He can’t even recall the faints sound of it.

He’s supposed to be bound to the incubus. Where is he? How could he leave him? Just the thought of being abandoned by the demon makes his entire body ache. He even considers trying to kill himself to see if he stays dead or not. That night however there is an explosion in London. To be more exact, at Six.

His vacation and hunt is done. It’s time to return.

It takes him four days to get back and when he does the first place he goes is M’s home to report in.

He feels better than he has in years, except for that ache that fills him with unending melancholy whenever he thinks of Q. He’s sure he could pass the tests if he tried, but he finds he doesn’t have it in him to actually try. Perhaps this will be the end. What he needs to die.

For some reason he’s told to meet the new quartermaster at the museum, and he’s not expecting much when he walks in. Perhaps that’s why he stops dead in his tracks when he sees who’s sitting where he’s supposed to meet the new Q.

It’s none other than his incubus, dressed in a suit and looking for all he’s worth like a human studying the painting.

“It took you long enough,” Q remarks as he settles beside the young appearing man. If not for the flash of stormy eyes with silver pupils instead of black when his demon glances in his direction, he’d doubt his sanity.

“I searched for you,” he states softly, turning to face the picture.

“Had you come home, you would have found me sooner.” His incubus replies, corners of his lips twitching upwards. “No matter. It gave me a chance to establish this identity. Your thoughts said that Six was the closest thing you have to a home, so that’s where I made myself a niche. I found a few hackers with personalities I didn’t like and stripped their minds as I used them for food.”

He’s surprised by the spike of jealousy that flashes through him at the idea of Q feeding off someone else’s energy, even if he logically knows it’s not something that can be avoided. If he continues working for Six, there will be times the demon will need a food source besides him and the other pet. Other pet.

“Is he here too?” He asks curiously.

“Of course, though he prefers avoiding people whenever he can,” Q answers blithely. “We’ll have to figure out housing arrangements as I have been bouncing between various hotels.”

He nods, the hints of a smile playing at the edge of his lips.

The incubus’ attention turns to the painting, “It always makes me feel a little melancholy."

That’s an interesting thing for the demon to say.

"A grand old warship being ignominiously hauled away for scrap," Q continues, and he gets the feeling that this is a warning about his life among the humans won’t last. "The inevitability of time, don't you think?"

He’s pretty sure that’s what this means, though he doesn’t plan on asking. He’ll continue as a Double O until he gets bored with it or his incubus tells him it’s time to leave. He’s not the first James Bond, he probably won’t be the last. It was to his advantage that his actual name is Hamish Bond, which was often translated to James while he was growing up, so he didn’t have to adapt to a new name the way most do.

“What do you think?” Q queries dryly, eyes gleaming mischievously when the incubus tips his head slightly towards him.

“A bloody big ship,” he replies with a snort that leads to a cough. “Excuse me.”

“Oh I’m sure there isn’t an excuse for you, Double O Seven.” The incubus teases, turning to look at him properly. “I am your new quartermaster.”

He bites back a grin, though he’s certain it shows in his eyes as he meets stormy gray eyes, “You must be joking.” He teases back, eyes traveling over the way that suit fits the demon’s slender form.

Laughing softly, the sarcasm practically drips from the incubus’ lips, "Why, because I am not wearing a lab coat?"

"Because you still have spots." He replies, hoping that it’s true, he so delighted in the different textures and colors of the demon’s gem toned skin.

Smirking, Q replies sassily, "My complexion is hardly relevant.”

“Well,” he bites back his smirk of his own, he’s certain that the incubus would have made sure to have all the information necessary for his post, “your competence is.”

“Age is no guarantee of efficiency,” retorts Q sardonically, particularly as the demon is far older than him, even if he looks younger.

The irony of his statement isn’t lost on him as he sassily remarks, "And youth is no guarantee of innovation."

Chuckling softly, the incubus presses into the contact along his side. Warmth bleeding through the many layers of fabric between them.

He can do this mission, then come home to his demon. To his future. Things are looking far better right now than he probably has a right to expect. 

**Author's Note:**

> Publishing schedule, I will try updating one or two stories on Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
> 
> Tumblr about my writing [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/) and twitter @jaimist0
> 
> I love reviews, comments, and any other sort of communication, feel free to stop in to say hi, communication keeps the muses brewing
> 
> I'll be posting a chapter a day for this week for the RBB


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